Fun it is, to be a bow. Nya, shooting the little creatures I do, their excited screams delight me, g'nya.

Confuse me do not with Bowser, nya, he is bumbling and large, something I am not.

Nya! For Bowyer I am, crafted by Smithy I was.

Nothing gives me delight greater than making statues, nya, nya!

The innocent little people, fear has frozen,

For I am Smithy's Chosen,

One that is, I am the Bowyer,

And that is what I will always be.


None can freeze toads like me, none have sense of humor of which I possess, nya!

Mack thinks so great he is, but is he nyat, no he isny't.

Believes he that Smithy favors him, lies this belief is.

Smithy's first creation was me, I, Bowyer, Nya!

Aeroes, charming little beasts they are. I fling them to the air, landing in Toad's hair they do.

Toadies grumble and pout, spot frozen to they are.

It is bad not, I am just having fun, Nya!

Now chant with me you must, Nya, Nya, Nya!